Intertwined Destinies
by faithfully yours forever
Summary: Massie loves him, but is afraid of heartbreak. Will she realize that their destinies might just be intertwined? KEMPSIE. Dedicated to Heart. Oneshot. Massie-centric. Sorry if it sucks. Read and ENJOY.


**Hello everyone! First, thanks to all who reviewed my last stories, I really appreciate it! Second, this was the fifth fanfic that I wrote for my English assignment this year. (For those of you who don't know what I'm talking about, see my profile for more info.) **

**KEMPSIE! :) J'adore Kemp.**

**Dedicated to Heart (**_**Your favorite sweetHEART)**_** because she loves and obsesses over Kemp just like me!**

**Once again, I don't own anything, not the characters, nothing. So, yea, I'm gonna stop blabbing and let you see the story. Read and enjoy, review if you wanna. :)**

**

* * *

**

Intertwined Destinies

She didn't know why she loved him. She didn't know why she fell so hard for him. She didn't know why she lay awake at night thinking about him. She didn't know why she wanted to be the one in his arms at every dance. She didn't know why she loathed his girlfriend-of-the-day, why she hated every girl who described his bedroom, why she despised every girl who described his sex secrets. She didn't know why her thoughts turned to him every time she closed her eyes.

It was like someone had etched his face into her brain. All she could think of was his coffee brown eyes – darker than Derrick's caramel eyes, but not as dark as Josh's dark chocolate orbs – and how they sparkled mischievously, how they glowed without a care in the world, and how they glimmered in the sun when he was cheering for his team during the big game. All she could do was fantasize about his golden curls, how the fell playfully into his eyes, how they seemed to glow in the sun when he was out running laps past her house, and how they seemed so different from the ridiculous afro he had last year.

Every time she saw him, every time she heard his name, every time she heard his voice, his laugh, she couldn't help but think about him for the rest of the day. She couldn't help but check his Formspring page everyday to read and reread his answers to her questions. She couldn't help but read every status he wrote on his Facebook page, she couldn't help but read his likes and dislikes on his Myspace page. She couldn't help checking to see what he ate for lunch every time he joined her and Derrick and the rest of the gang at their usual table, she couldn't help but glance at him every time she walked into English class, she couldn't help but glance at his sexy soccer six-pack abs at every soccer practice when she came to pick up Kristen.

And she certainly couldn't help but get up at 5 every morning just to see his shirtless self run past her house, his blonde curls bouncing jauntily, his structured chest working, his muscular frame gliding smoothly past her, hidden behind the curtains of her bedroom. Thank God, she had chosen to move her room toward the front of the house when her mother had renovated the house last spring.

But no matter how much she obsessed over him, no matter how much she fantasized about him, no matter how often she checked his Formspring, no matter how often she lost beauty sleep to watch his muscled frame run past her, she couldn't help but cower with fear. Because no matter how much she loved him, no matter how much she liked him, she couldn't give her heart away.

The last time she did that, it had been returned, broken and crushed into a million pieces. She didn't want to fall in love, she didn't want to suffer the heartbreak again. She didn't want to cry again, she didn't want to be jealous of every girl who clung to their boyfriends, she didn't want to have to smile through her misery, she didn't want to fall without a net again.

Most importantly, she didn't want to fall for Kemp Hurley, the notorious playboy, the infamous pervert, the scandalous player. She didn't want to be pulled into his charm and grace, and his adorable smile, his sexy wink, only to be replaced the next day. She didn't want to love Kemp Hurley.

But unfortunately for her, she did. She was the one who would save every profile picture of him from his Facebook to her desktop. She was the one with 187 pictures of him on her USB. She was the one who would download every love song on iTunes with his face in mind. She was the one who smiled just thinking about his playful behavior, his goofy smile, his naughty winks, his lively laugh, his sexy voice, his corny jokes. She was the one who thought of Kemp Hurley as she was dressing up for Winter Ball or as she was writing the mandatory English essay on Romeo and Juliet that was assigned two weeks ago.

Because unfortunately for her, Massie Block was deeply, intensely, and genuinely in love with Kemp Hurley.

And every time she saw another girl in his arms, every time she saw his arm around someone else's waist, every time she saw someone else's face buried into his muscular shoulder and chest, she felt a little piece of her already broken heart crumble.

Because falling in love with Kemp Hurley was a disastrous mess. One way or another, you get your heart broken, you get your dreams crushed, and you never, ever, _ever_ get your happily ever after.

Which is exactly why she was sitting in her favorite swing set at the Westchester Park in a pair of jeans and a thin white shirt on the stormy night of her Senior Prom. Because if she was going to get wet, Massie Block would rather get soaked in a blazing thunderstorm, than drown herself in tears, crying because she had fallen in love with Kemp Hurley.

So, when see felt someone's tuxedo jacket around her shoulders, and glanced into the gleaming coffee brown eyes of Kemp Hurley, she couldn't help but feel the same feeling of lust, longing, desire, fear, dread and alarm that happened every time she thought of him.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Prom was boring," he said, settling into the swing next to her, "But I think the better question is 'What is the self-proclaimed bitch of Westchester High doing in the park, in the middle of a storm on the night of her supposed crowning as prom queen?'"

"Well, why isn't the self-proclaimed pervert of Westchester High not sticking his penis in some bimbo's vagina?" Massie retorted angrily, angry that he was here, breaking her heart; angry that he looked so damn sexy in his tuxedo, while she looked like a pile of dog crap; angry that she just couldn't muster up the courage to tell him that she just _fucking_ loved him.

"Look, Kemp, just go, okay? Just go back to Olivia or Strawberry, or who ever your latest target was, okay?" she said, before slipping off his tuxedo jacket, and turning away. Because she just couldn't take this any longer, because she just couldn't risk one more heartbreak, because she might just explode if she saw Kemp Hurley one more time.

"Massie, wait," he said, grabbing onto her wrist.

"Kemp, let go," she yelled, the tears growing larger and larger, threatening to fall from her amber eyes.

"No," he said, pulling her close, trying to look into her eyes, which were looking at anything – everything except for him. "For the past five years, you've been ignoring me, not bothering to speak to me, not bothering to even say hello once in a while. What the hell is bothering you? Look at me."

She met his eyes, and at once everything seemed to just fall. The tears fell, the rain began to pour harder, and her heart just fell into a million little pieces.

"What's bothering me, Kemp, is that even though I know that you think I'm the biggest bitch in Westchester, I've been in love with you for the past two years, but I can't ever fuckinglove you because at the same time you've been fucking breaking my heart with every damn bimbo you bring into your bedroom," she yelled before turning away, and running, running, running because she just couldn't stand it if she heard him laughing at her idiocy. Running, running, running, trying to put behind all of the times she wanted to believe that he would love her back, running, running, running.

But running, running, running was fruitless, because in a matter of seconds, he had caught up with her, holding her waist like he did with all of those other girls, his chest inches away from hers, and his lips almost touching her.

She pushed away from him, the tears growing stronger and stronger. "If you're going to laugh, just do it now," she said, wishing that she was anywhere else, with anyone else, anyone but the one person who could shatter her heart.

But all he did was bring her close again, and at the same time, tilting her head up so that he could stare at her beautiful amber eyes. "You know, Massie, I could just fucking kill you right now," he whispered into her ear. "Didn't you ever realize just how badly I wanted you in the seventh grade, how long I've been waiting to hold you this close, how badly I've wanted to call you mine? Didn't you ever realize how badly I've wanted to kill Derrick for breaking your heart? Didn't you ever realize that I just fucked those other girls around because I thought that you would never love me back? Didn't you realize that I fucking loved you for the past five years?"

And suddenly, he was kissing her, in the sweetest and gentlest way she's ever felt, his lips moving ever so tenderly across her, his hands softly touching the small of her back, rubbing her lower back in smooth, gentle circles. With every second, she could feel her heart mending, healing, patching itself back together. Kissing him was just so damn soothing and calming and peaceful, that she almost didn't want to stop for oxygen.

So when he did break away, she quickly pulled him back in, pulling his defined body towards hers, tangling her hands into his soaking wet golden curls, taking in his Diesel cologne, and savoring his sweet, gentle kisses like it was the end of the world.

And when they finally did stop kissing, all she did was stay in his arms, her head on his shoulder, feeling his heart beating alongside hers, hoping that tomorrow never came, hoping that they could just live in his arms forever.

"You know, you owe big time for making me wait for this moment," he whispered softly.

She smiled, when she met his goofy smile, his twinkling coffee eyes. "Well, who would have thought that Westchester's biggest pervert was actually a big teddy bear? "

"Remind me again, how a bitch like you turned me on," he said, lazily playing with her hair, before sneaking a kiss on her soft, rosy cheeks.

"Well, remind me again, how a supposed playboy, like you, turned me on?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

And all he could do was smile, pulling her deeper and deeper into his arms, inhaling her sweet perfume, and savoring the moment. And she smiled back, savoring the moment, as well.

**

* * *

**

Okay, I didn't like the ending. But what did you think? Liked it, loved it, hated it, bored you to tears? No pressure to review, but I do want to know what you thought of it. So please review? For me?

**Thanks for everything!**

**- Faith. :]**


End file.
